My Secret Admirer

"Do you love me?" with a whisper in your ears much like the way you did when we were waiting young, then i would say, "I do." But if you ask, as once in pain, "How do you love me now?" What shall i say? I'll say i cannot speak some times at the door when we part and my throat jams my tongue full of fear.

I'll mention the tearlines that break the dust on my cheek when once we meet again with our lips. I'll paint you a fantasy born in my bones of a boy with tiny toy bottle tapping the last wink of perfume on the nape of your neck or the edge of your bright yellow dress. I'll paint it and love it and wish like a child, that soft with the dusk.

My love may not be perfect, but this i know, that the face on my fingertips, the cheeks in my hand and the breath in my palm that i feel in my flesh can only be yours like a wind song of truth that runs through my hair.

These lines say, "i love you." what shall i say more, except perhaps to tell you, i love you even when you snore!